


Keres Isn't Having It

by uwukeres



Series: Keres The "Dovahkiin" [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: All the companion quests were easy, Gen, and then this one just???, it probably wasn't suppose to be that hard lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 15:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uwukeres/pseuds/uwukeres
Summary: Keres just isn't having it-- Kodlak, the Campanions, and all of these thing that throw fire.





	Keres Isn't Having It

Keres was having a awful day.

It had started with Kodlak calling for her in the early rays of dawn. She had blindly stumbled up the stairs to Jorvaskkr, her breath misting in puffs in front of her. The wood elf pushed her pale, fine hair out of her face. Opening the heavy door, Keres closes her eyes briefly, relishing in the heat of the place, before setting off in the direction of Kodlaks quarters. 

Oh how it has gone downhill from there.

It was simple enough to mark on her map where it is, however the old man completely /neglected/ to tell her what is in between. Keres wipes her brow, smearing a wonderful mixture of dirt and blood on her forehead. The thing that was in between, was a /necromancy camp/. There was this one--person? Thing? That kept re-appearing after she cut it down-- Heart literally out for Skyrim to observe, she can see it beating behind his bloody rib cage. Only to find that there were witches who kept reviving this poor man and--/and!/ to top it all off, these witches threw /fireballs/ at her, catching her bow on /fire/. After She broke up a ceremony to revive this guy, got her perfectly fine robes absolutely /decimated/, falling down the river in a bout of clumsiness, and soaking wet-- A dragon decided to grace her with its completely necessary presence 

Keres threw her hands in the air, cursing loudly and grabbing for her sword. The pale haired elf circled the scaley beast, cursing at it so violently even her father would have fainted. She kept stabbing at it with her burning sword, and eventually gave in and shouted at it. It left her throat raw, hands shaking. The elf collapsed to her knees, the soul of the beast overwhelming her, as it barrelled at Keres in reddish wisps. 

She pushes her now slightly burnt hair out of her face, streaks of dirt dusting her once white hair. Keres raises back to her feet, searching in her pack-- which now that she looks at it, seems to have a hole in it? And was wet? She peaks in It, a growing feeling of unease as--by gods her potions had broken. She covered her face with her hands, haven given up keeping her warpaint nice and crisp around the second time the briar heart man was revived. She feels defeated-- more so than when Farkas out drank her. Keres draws a long, calming breath, and carefully picks out the broken glass, her fingers bleeding by the end of it. 

Her map, thankfully, had minor damage but was still mostly legible. She began her trek again, limping slightly towards that bastard of a cave. She isn't even being paid for this-- and really, she could use the extra coin with how damaged all of her things are. Keres curses the old man again for the sake of cursing him. The elf, in the trek, only has to kill a /sabertooth tiger/, a pack of wolves oh-- and lest forget the troll. The hulking mass of flesh and its very solid club slammed into side, and really, how she didn't hear its approach is beyond the elf, knocking the wind from her lungs and toppling her over. Straight into the stream she was attempting to drink from. 

At least the bird-witch-lady things had sufficiently dried her robes with their welcoming fireballs.


End file.
